DP - That One Scar (Ectober 2018)
by RheaRoy-CC
Summary: A one-shot written for #ectober but I am willing to continue if people want me to. Danny Phantom (c) Nickelodeon
1. Chapter 1

Summary:

A oneshot written for #ectober but I am willing to continue if people want me to.

Disclaimer:

\- I do not own Danny Phantom

Codes: [None]

Pairing(s): [None]

Warning(s): Blood/Ectoplasm I guess?

Warning codes are written Chapter_ (Warning code)

\- (D) = Death

\- (V) = Violence

\- (G) = Gore

\- (S) = Suicide

\- (E) = Sexual content

Age rating: Teen+

Enjoy, loves! See you in the next chapter.

~ CC

Also, I do take construtive critism kindly, however, while I do listen to the feedback, the chance of me actally bothering to put it into action is pretty low. SO BE WARNED.


	2. That One Scar

Ice blue eyes were glazed over, their dilating pupils locked onto the teen in the mirror in front of him.

Jet black hair stuck out at all angles, messy and matted under his sweating hands as he ran his fingers through the tangled locks.

Faded scars criss-crossed across his pale torso and shoulders, spider-webbing over every inch of skin, while bruises of alarming sizes were scattered along his chest, stomach, back and arms. Fresh cuts and bloody bandages overlapped the half-healed injuries.

In particular, a relatively new gash stood out from all the rest. Still a shining red in colour, the wound ran down the side of his face, just scraping past the far corner of his left eye.

Leaning against his dresser with his arms, the halfa's breathing was uneven and heavy, as his attention drifted from one injury to another, regardless of how long ago it had been received.

Sighing in an attempt to slow his almost hyperventilating lungs, Danny straightened himself to his full height. His blue eyes, however, never moved a single inch from his reflection. He poked a finger at the edge of the deep cut that blemished his face, wincing at the pain that ran through his nerves.

'How am I going to hide that?' Danny thought in despair, gritting his teeth as poked at the fresh break of skin a little harder than intended.

He reached for a damp piece of cloth residing in a basin of water on his dresser.

He began dabbing at the cut, biting his tongue in an attempt to silence his pained screams as the icy liquid caused the wound to sting as though his nerves were on fire.

Soon, the young teenager was done, and he hastily tossed the rag back into the basin with an undesired splash, which was thankfully not loud enough to wake the rest of the Fenton household.

'That was fun.' The raven-ette mused bitterly, as he dried the remaining water droplets from his face with dedicated caution not to disturb the painful cut.

Danny's gaze wondered to the needle that sat in front of him, and grimaced.

Did he have to stitch it up?

Why couldn't his powers work just a little bit faster this time?

Releasing a breath he did not realise he had been holding, the ghost boy's delicately picked up the needle and proceeded to thread the sharp, silver object.

Of course, it took several trys to complete this task, each time sending a nauseous feeling of pain through his facial muscles every time he scowled as yet another attempt to thread the needle failed.

Eventually, Danny succeeded in his simple, yet tedious, mission that was to thread the needle, allowing his tense muscles to relax for a split second before he directed his attention to his reflection once again.

'This is gonna hurt.' The half-human thought bitterly as he brought the needle close to bloody cut, which, thanks to ghostly healing, had already began to heal.

He inhaled a breath, and slowly pressed the needle into his skin, gasping at the pain that electrified his nervous system.

While the teen was not usually one to cry, considering all that he had been through, he could feel tears collecting along his eyelashes as the agonizing pain of the wound being pulled together by the thread shot through his facial muscles like the blade that had originally ripped the flesh.

Each minute felt like several hours of torture to the black haired male as he stitched the wound close, but soon, after an undeniably painful round of messy stitches, Danny finally dropped the pointed metal onto the plain surface of the dresser.

Leaning on the edge of the dresser with his hands once more, he wiped away the warm, salty water that was threatening to fall from his tear-ducts. He gasped in pain yet again.

Letting go of a sigh that he had been holding, Danny released the edge of the dresser from the sweaty grasp of his fingers and carefully backed onto his bed, flopping backwards and wincing in pain again.

Not even bothering to change into something more comfortable than his bloodstained t-shirt and lose jeans, exhaustion quickly overtook the youngest of the Fentons and sleep yanked his mind into darkness.


	3. The Next Day

**A/N: The-Fallen-Spirit, you resquested it, so here you go. :)**

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE-!

Danny groaned as he sent an ectoblast at his alarm clock in annoyance. He then rolled out of his cozy bed and onto the cold floor with a dull thump.

Getting to his feet, the teen rubbed his tired eyes, stretching, hissing in slight pain as his fist brushed the edge of the wound that ran down his face.

His blue eyes searched for his mirror, his pupils falling on the broken alarm clock in the process.

"Well, shit. Mom's gonna kill me for that."

His eyes met the mirror. The half-healed scar stood out even more so in the light of the day.

"Crud."

After dressing himself, brushing his teeth, attempting to tame his wild hair and washing his face as delicately as he could, Danny snuck, invisible, and, when he thought nobody was looking, snagged a slice of burnt toast which also became invisible as he came into contact with it.

'For someone who's supposed to hate toast, I eat way too much of it.' The ghost child sighed mentally as he crept through the door with a piece of toast in his mouth, still invisible.

"Hey Danny."

Said male pulled the hood of his sleeveless, green hoodie further over his raven coloured bangs.

"Hey Tuck." Danny said dully, eyes staring at the ground. The techno geek came up from behind Danny, giving the boy a concerned glance.

"You alright, dude?" Tucker asked sympathetically. The halfa shot a glare at the African-American.

"Sorry. Standard question."

Danny sighed heavily. "I just got stuck in a pretty rough battle at around two this morning, consisting of Skulker and his upgrades, Tecnus 3.0 and oddly enough, the Box Ghost."

"What's so odd about the Box Ghost showing up?"

"He discovered the joys of box knifes and box jellyfish." Danny muttered sarcastically as he pulled up his hoodie and t-shirt just enough so that his best friend could see the red marks caused by the Box Ghost alone.

"Ouch. You may have to step up your game." Tucker said, earning a light punch from the wounded teen.

"Geez. That makes me feel so much better."

"What makes you feel so much better, Danny?"

The two males turned to the source of the female voice.

"Hey Sam." Tucker addressed the goth girl, giving a little wave.

"Hi." Danny said lamely, much less enthusiastic than the techno geek.

"Whoa, Danny. What's with you?" Sam asked, shocked. "You look dead on your feet."

Tucker snorted while Danny crossed his arms and scowled.

"That's not funny, Tucker."

"You have to admit it kind of is. In a way."

Danny hit Tucker on the arm again, with half intensity rather than quarter intensity this time.

"Ow!"

"Anyway..." Sam said, ignoring the whining tech nerd. "What happened to you?" She asked, addressing the half-dead teen.

"Oh, you know. Skulker, Tecnus and the Box Ghost all in one go."

"Is that where-?"

The bell rang, signaling to them that they were going to be late.

"Oh crud."

"Late again, Mr Fenton." Mr Lancer, his bald English teacher, said as Danny trudged through the door, followed by Sam and Tucker. "I would've expected better of you, Miss Manson, Mr Foley."

The trio sent a shared dirty look at the educator. They took their seats, and Danny removed his hood, but kept his face directed at his desk. He positioned his hand so that it covered the scar, careful not to agitate that wound even more than it already was.

The overweight teacher talked about Shakespeare and what not, but Danny could barely listen to it, distracted by the thoughts that swirled in his tired brain, musing over the words spoken to him by Tucker,

' You may have to step up your game.'

He could not figure out why his best friend's words stung almost as badly as the Box Ghost's jellyfish, but they had, and still did. He knew Tucker had only been joking, but all the same, that single sentence had made him feel like shit. Danny did not blame the African-American though; he had not meant it in an insulting sense.

"Um... Earth to Clueless-1."

Danny snapped out of his daydreams as a hand waved in front of his face.

"Time to go to next class." Sam said.

"Oh. Right."


	4. Last Lesson

Three periods later, and the dubbed freak trio of Casper High was finally able to hold a decent conversation. They were sitting at their usual lunch table and Danny had pulled his hood over his hair once again in an attempt to hide the scar that run down the side of his face. Thanks to ghostly accelerated healing abilities, the cut was completely sealed and was now a light pink colour.

"As I was trying to ask earlier, what happened to your face?" Sam asked as she swallowed the first bite of her grass sandwich.

"Box Ghost." Danny mumbled as he took a bite out of his own sandwich. Sam's violet eyes widened.

"The Box Ghost did that?!"

"And Skulker and Tecnus." The halfa added.

"Ah. That makes more sense." The goth nodded, "Skulker get new upgrades?"

"Yep."

"How are those stings doing anyway, Danny?" Tucker cut in while still chewing his meat. Sam's

nose scrunched up in disgust.

"First off, Tucker, can't you chew your food with your mouth closed?" She turned to Danny. "And what does he mean, 'how are those stings?'"

"The Box Ghost met box jellyfish and decided to have a field day."

"Yikes. How are you even in school?" Sam asked in concern, placing a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Increased healing is probably one of the reasons." The half-ghost sighed.

"But why didn't you ring us? We could've helped you out."

"It was two in the morning, Sam. I couldn't drag you guys out of bed. Besides, I handled it fine."

"Yeah, because having a scar that runs down the length of your face is 'handling it'." Sam said.

Danny said nothing in return, but took another bite of his sandwich.

"Come on, Danny, it's not that bad." Tucker attempted to brighten Danny's mood.

"Scars are pretty cool, in my opinion." The goth added, understanding exactly what the techno geek was trying to do.

"But if anyone sees it, my secret will probably get exposed!" The halfa groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose while he tugged at the edge of his hood.

"Sure, it'll make people suspicious," Tucker said as Sam shot a glare at him, "But nobody'll know exactly how or what happened, Danny. So for all they know, you could've just injured yourself, meaning your secret would still be safe."

Sam looked at Tucker with slight suprise.

"Good to know I'm not the only one who hasn't lost their head yet." She nodded approvingly.

"Hey! I'm sitting right here, you know." Danny said indignantly.

The rest of the day passed without too much trouble, until their last lesson however.

"Mr Fenton, take your hood down in my classroom."

Sam and Tucker shot the hooded teen joint expressions of worry, which seemed to go unnoticed by their teacher. Danny slowly brought his fingers to the edge of his hood, wincing as his thumb brushed past the half-healed wound which seemed to be taking forever to heal.

"Do I have to?" The halfa asked, unwilling to perform the request that had been asked of him. The teacher glared coldly at him.

"I will not ask again, Mr Fenton. Now please remove your hood."

Danny let out a small exhale of air as his fingers grasped the edge of the hood, pulling it back over his black bangs. He kept his blue eyes locked onto the blank surface of the desk he sat at, not wanting to meet the gaze of anyone within the room.

He rested his temple against his palm, mostly obstructing the view of the long scar that ran down the side of his face. This action, of course, did not mean that the wound was completely hidden from the view of his classmates.

A collective gasp and a "Holy sweat socks, Fen-turd, what happened to you?" answered Danny's unspoken question. His gaze shifted onto Sam and Tucker, who also appeared shocked. In the shadow of their best friend's hood, they had not been able to see the severity of the injury themselves.

He glanced back down at his desk again, his raven-coloured locks casting a shadow across his face that hid his eyes.

"Mr Fenton? What happened?" The teacher's voice was now softer and his tone held concern.


End file.
